


the spaces between us

by squidmemesinc



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5080300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidmemesinc/pseuds/squidmemesinc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things they wish they could say. Sometimes, words are best left to the brave, and company and gentle touches are the tools left over for the rest of us. Sometimes, that's enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the spaces between us

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for br1 of saso but I changed like half of it... To be honest I'm a little anxious about posting it because even though I didn't specifically mention it I kind of meant Bokuto to have bipolar disorder because I'm a fan of that hc and that makes it kind of personal to me :V

_“Hey, do you want to come over tomorrow? I know it’s short notice, but I was thinking we could have a hot pot party.”_

Akaashi switches his phone to the other ear and looks down at his homework, which he had had to stop doing when Kuroo called. “I’m a little busy with exams right now,” he replies cautiously.

There’s a slight pause. _“Yeah, I kind of figured you might be. Don’t worry about it, then.”_

He waits a moment before replying, trying to gauge how plausible his suspicion is. “Is everything okay?”

 _“I can handle it.”_ Kuroo is not managing to resist the urge to backtrack. He called for a reason, and they both know it. 

Akaashi wonders, not for the first time, if Kuroo thinks he can’t handle bad news because he’s a year younger, or still in high school, or something equally trivial. “Tetsurou,” he says with a hint of irritation. “Just because I’m not with you doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what’s happening.”

He sighs. _“Well, the team hasn’t been doing super well, and we have exams too.”_ There’s more that he isn’t saying, but this time Akaashi knows what he means.

“I can come on Friday.”

 

They make it a surprise. Akaashi takes the train up in the afternoon and manages to get a seat and do some studying on the way, with his textbook propped open in his lap. Kuroo picks him up from the station and takes him to their small apartment, where they plan to wait for Bokuto until he gets back from his evening class. Akaashi means to do more studying, and for a while he does, but it’s not entirely Kuroo’s fault when they end up trading soft kisses, fingers curling together loosely on top of the table. And then that they wind up wrapped up under Kuroo’s covers for over an hour, fully aware that they’ll probably make it back there later with another body to explore.

Bokuto comes back around 6:30 and doesn’t even look up before taking off his shoes. They’re at the table again, and Akaashi doesn’t say anything, just smiles because it is good to see him again, since it’s been a month at least. On the outside, at least, he looks fine. He doesn’t look tired, at least, and he still has the energy to style his hair. Things could be worse. 

“Dude, we have a guest,” Kuroo calls, sounding full of himself. It was his wrangling that got Akaashi to come down, so he likely wants credit for that, and Bokuto will probably give it to him when he finds out. Akaashi resists the urge to roll his eyes and remembers to keep his smile on for when Bokuto looks up.

Bokuto pauses with his finger hooked in the heel of his sneaker and first glances down at the shoes at the door, maybe notices there are some unfamiliar ones next to his and Kuroo’s then snaps his head up. “Keiji!” he practically yells, not so much dropping his bag unceremoniously as flinging it to the floor and bounding over to them. Akaashi doesn’t even have time to stand up before Bokuto is on him, thick arms wrapped around his shoulders, pressing kisses to his neck.

“Hi, Koutarou.” He wraps his arms around Bokuto’s back and squeezes gently.

“I can’t believe you’re here! This is the best surprise ever!” Bokuto’s words are muffled by Akaashi’s skin, which he’s still pressed against. Akaashi is half in, half out of his chair, trying to support Bokuto’s weight with a little difficulty, but he doesn’t want to move him yet. The warmth is nice; the familiar weight of his body is nice.

Eventually Kuroo pulls him away to tell him the second part of the surprise, which is dinner. Akaashi is surprised he hadn’t figured it out from all the surplus meat and vegetables in their fridge, that appeared in their fridge overnight, but then again, maybe he’s not. They sit and eat and talk. Kuroo keeps smiling at them both, looking like he could be pleased with himself or the two of them or just all of them together as a group. Bokuto has even more to say than he did the last time they saw each other, when he and Kuroo were visiting over the break, and Akaashi finds himself wondering what other emotion this happiness is tinged with. 

He puts it out of his mind as they settle in to watch a movie, Kuroo having convinced Bokuto with a single sentence that he should take the rest of the night off, and both of them convincing Akaashi with a few more than that and some well-timed gentle pinches and pokes to his sides. (He agreed on the condition that he would not be subject to tickling for the rest of the visit). Bokuto insists that they all squeeze onto the smallish couch under a pile of blankets, including the ugly green and yellow afghan Kuroo’s grandmother crocheted for him when he left for college. Bokuto takes his and Akaashi’s hands beneath the blankets and keeps talking during the movie, so Kuroo tickles him. He tries to hide behind Akaashi, and even though he’s slightly fearful of a broken truce, Akaashi holds him down for Kuroo’s suddenly inescapable fingers. 

They miss the last half of the movie and end up first on the floor in a tangle of limbs and unfortunately-colored yarn, and then, somehow, but as Akaashi predicted, in Kuroo’s bed again. This time they’re piled under more blankets that they need even less, that Bokuto dragged with them when he half carried Akaashi into the room, with Kuroo carrying the tails so no one tripped. Akaashi stretches an arm over his head and sighs under the eager presses of Bokuto’s lips, losing his clothes again, this time to two pairs of hands. But, he manages to steal some with his own, tracing over the lines of Kuroo’s chest, the curve of Bokuto’s thighs, not hidden now by those kneepads Akaashi misses seeing at practice. The neighbors might be wondering who the third voice coming through their walls belongs to, if they care to or have no choice but to listen. Akaashi hopes the walls are thicker than he thinks they are, for their sake.

Hours later, deep into the quietest part of the night, Bokuto sighs into the back of Akaashi’s neck, and he knows he’s not asleep. He feels Kuroo’s thumb brush his arm and knows he’s not either. The blankets overlap each other in a tangled, lumpy mess, failing to cover a foot here or a shoulder there, and the moonlight is bleeding through the cracks in the blinds, illuminating the three of them buried under the weight of unspoken thoughts.

Akaashi feels a gentle squeeze around his chest that reaches deep into his heart. “I’m glad you came, Keiji,” Bokuto says quietly. There’s an apology between the spaces in his words.


End file.
